Chance thought for a while, "umm. Nah."
"How come on, you can't expect me to be on the receiving end all the while. Now do you?" Kristoff complained.
"I'll think about it." Chance replied, but deep down he knew there was nothing to think about, he would always be on top.
Chance pressed a hard kiss to Kristoff's lips, "stop thinking so hard about it, just let things flow and see where this relationship takes us."
It felt like hours the two indulged in each other.
Two more rounds in the bed, one in the shower, and one on the kitchen counter. Where they pass out from heavy breathing, cold sweats, and heated skin.
Chance had exquisite dreams of Kristoff riding him, sucking his cock, and receiving his seeds.
Kristoff woke with a stare wondering if Chance was still there until he felt the comfort from his bed, somewhere during the night Chance must have brought him to the bed.
Chance was slightly snoring beside him, spooning Kristoff in his arms.
Everything was perfect about last night, he got his wish, and the man of his dreams. Which he didn't know was of his dreams until that night they met.
Glancing at Chance one last time Kristoff slowly climbed of out bed, thinking he could surprise him with a wonderful breakfast when he wakes.
But instead, the smoke alarm went off, scaring the life out of Chance as he rushed to the kitchen, where he saw Kristoff covered in flour, and some brown stuff.
The floor was dirty and sticky, the sink was starting to overflow. There was blinded stuff from the blinder on the ceiling and counters.
Chance was in shock, "what the hell happened? What did you do?"
"Well, I thought I could cook." Kristoff rolled his eyes, then threw the spatula over his shoulder. Causing it to knock a stack of cups off the counter.
"Christ." Kristoff groaned.
Chance tried to contain his laugh but couldn't. "I guess you have never cooked a day in your life."
"It seemed easy." Kristoff shrugged.
"Well for one, you have to oil the frying pan if you are going to fry eggs or sausages, the bread goes in the toaster, not the open flame. And the blender should always be covered, and whatever that is, you don't do that." Chance pointed out.
Kristoff pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It's ok," Chance pat his shoulder, "when you're rich you are never expected to do anything."
"Oh, so cause I'm rich I don't know how to do shit for myself." Kristoff sass.
"Just shut up." He mumbled.
"Here let's get to cleaning."
Kristoff looked at the cleaning instrument that Chance handed to him, "Swiffer wet jet?" Acting like he was holding an alien in his hand.
After almost two hours of cleaning by himself, and Kristoff telling him he missed a spot, Chance was finally finished.
"Well." Chance said, his stomach grumbled. "Time to show you how people cooked.
Chance gave Kristoff step-by-step instructions on how to fry an egg, how to put the bread in the toaster, and how to make natural juice.
"Hey, what the fuck? Don't ever fucking do that!" Chance shouted.
Kristoff dropped the fork and raised his hands. "What? I'm just getting the bread out."
Chance sighed, "you damn dimwit. You will get electrocuted, all you have to do is press the little button here, even so, they come up on their own."
Kristoff said nothing, all he did was watch Chance as he made coffee, and spread jam on their bread.
"Oh and please don't even touch my fridge, don't want you to burn my fucking place down, besides I want my security deposit back." Chance sipped his coffee.
"Whatever Chance, just whatever." Kristoff rolled his eyes.
"I have a list of things to do today, I wanted you to help me but after seeing this little shenanigan I don't think I want you to." Chance chuckled.
Even though Chance debated with himself, he still brought Kristoff along with him to the laundry mat.